


with the sunrise

by SomeRainMustFall



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sunshine is Malcolm's Emotional Support Birb, kinda. from his birby.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeRainMustFall/pseuds/SomeRainMustFall
Summary: Malcolm has a panic attack. Sunshine is there to help.
Comments: 28
Kudos: 115





	with the sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> (◍•ᴗ•◍)

Malcolm wakes up, as he so nearly always does, with a cry.

" _No!_ "

It echoes in his empty loft, inside his head, stings the back of his throat and he knows he'll be hoarse for a while. 

Tears stream down his face, and that confuses him a bit. He doesn't usually wake up crying. He spits his mouth-guard out and starts to try to catch his breath, air whistling through his nose, falling short of satisfaction in his lungs. 

He's having a panic attack. 

Of _course_ he is. Goddamn, he doesn't fucking _want_ to have another.

He unlocks his wrists, whimpering. Sunshine chirps from somewhere close. He clicks his tongue twice, holding his arm up, and she lands on his hand, hopping up and down.

"I love you," Malcolm whispers, petting her with a finger. "You know that, right?"

She tweets, quite happily. Malcolm smiles, tilting his head to the side as he leans back, and Sunshine jumps up to settle against his neck, nuzzling him in the way he can always count on to make him feel better.

He closes his eyes, tries to breathe, and when he can't, when he whimpers again, Sunshine chirps, gives him a little kiss and chirps again, ruffling her feathers.

His chest aches, but she's so soft. He really, really likes soft things, especially her.

He pets her, rubs his face against her, and still can't relax enough. Even with comfort, there's something wrong. 

No. There's nothing wrong, he tries to remind himself. There's nothing wrong. Everything is okay. 

_I'm okay._

His heart skips a beat, and his vision flickers. He gasps, and Sunshine warbles, rubbing her head against his neck and tickling him.

His giggle is choked. He needs something to hold tighter than he can her, though. Something to squeeze.

Carefully, he gets up. Sunshine flies away, but he knows she'll come back when he sits down again.

He stumbles in the blue, early morning tint of the sun starting to rise over to the table under his stairs, and opens one of the cabinets, takes out something he's far too embarrassed to ever have out any time else, lest anyone he knows ever seeing it. 

"Hi," he says, holding the stuffed teddy bear close, pushing his face against it and breathing in. He's the softest thing Malcolm knows of besides Sunshine. His name is Tuffy, and only Gil knows about him, and _only_ because Malcolm had gone completely non-verbal in his breakdown once and could do nothing but cry and point to where he hid him until Gil found him.

Gil hadn't been judgemental at all, and Malcolm hadn't been _terribly_ embarrassed. Better him than _Mother_ , who would surely have insisted that as an adult he didn't need such a silly, childish thing, perhaps even told him to get rid of it.

But he _does_ need it. Something to squeeze as tight as he needs to when he gets afraid, in between either the worst of it passing on its own or him needing to call Gil to talk it over. Never an easy decision, to suffer or show weakness, but he usually picks to suffer. 

He lays back down, and Sunshine flies down to curl into his neck again without even needing to be called. He coos at her, calls her the best girl in the world, because it's true, and she is, and she tweets in what he's sure is agreement.

Holding his bear against his chest, clutching it tight with the hand that shakes to ease the trembles, he says to her, "Sometimes I'm almost certain you're my only friend."

She makes a sound, as if in protest, and he shrugs his other shoulder.

"You're right. I know Gil loves me. I love him, too. But sometimes I can't look him in the eyes because I'm afraid of seeing disappointment. For being too ambitious with the cases, or...getting hurt, or…"

He sighs. "Whatever else is wrong with me. _Everything_ that's wrong with me. Ainsley's success isn't my failure, but I think sometimes Mother thinks so. I've...I've never wanted anything more than to make her proud of me, and I don't think there's anything I could do to make that happen. She doesn't approve...but profiling is what I do best! It's what I _need. You_ know that...why doesn't she? Why can't she see? Why doesn't she—"

He chokes, quietly. More tears start to escape his eyes, even as he tightly shuts them. 

"Why doesn't she love me as much as she used to? Before—before Dad was—and _Dad—_ he tried—he tried to—I just wanted him to _lo_ —"

He sobs, turns his head towards Sunshine, and laughs quietly as she gently nips at one of his tears. 

"I don't know why I'm crying!" he whispers. "I've known for a while now. I just—I cry so much and I almost never know why. I want—I want to stop crying. But that's not—"

He knows that's not what he deserves, but he can hardly say that in front of her. She might peck him again, harder. She's somehow learned when he's being hateful to himself, perhaps by his tone. He loves her for that.

"Maybe I just…" he sighs, squeezing his bear harder. "I don't know. Damn. _Damn._ I don't know. I don't ever know. Are you—" He laughs, nuzzling her. "Are you proud of me?"

Sunshine trills. She gives him another little kiss, and he cries a little harder.

And then he stops, because he always does. It always stops, eventually. Sunshine hops down to his hand, and he notices the sunrise in the window beyond.

"Wow," he says, standing up, still holding Tuffy tight against his chest, Sunshine on his hand as he stands in front of one of the only things he finds beautiful, worthy of staying alive for, left in this world.

Pinks and yellows and purples swirl together in a painting across the sky. He thinks about getting his phone to take a picture, but his hands are busy, and this is something he can only truly appreciate just once.

He breathes in, closing his eyes, and opens them again, just as the sun starts to peek over the buildings. 

"I think I'm okay," he says, kissing her head. "For now. I love you. Thank you. You know you mean the world to me, don't you? That I'm okay because of you?"

She starts to sing one of her beautiful little songs, and he sighs, takes that as a yes, and enjoys the melding of the colors before him.

Things always seem to be just a little better, a little more bearable, with the sunrise.

**x**

She wakes to her boy screaming, then making those noises again. Those choked, almost gags as he struggles to breathe like he's forgotten how.

She knows she's needed before he calls for her, and happily she flies to him, landing on his hand and telling him good morning. It's still a bit early, but he won't be going back to sleep now. 

Her boy says something. She understands in tones and volume, and knows her boy needs her, so she settles up into his neck, curls into the place that makes his whole body vibrate with a gleeful giggle as she nuzzles it. She ruffles her feathers, but her boy seems to be particularly upset. She feels the wild _beat beat beat_ in his neck, pecks it gently in hopes it slows down, because it only gets this fast when her boy really needs to relax.

She loves the warmth here, tucked against him. She feels close to him, able to express her love in the best way she can.

Her boy gets up, and she knows it's for the fuzzy thing. She's pecked at it before, to make sure it's safe, that it's good enough for her boy, and it is. She trusts it. Her boy seems to need it. Luckily not as much as he needs her, or she might peck at it a bit harder.

When he comes back, she curls into her spot again. She tells him she loves him, that he's good, that he's perfect, that she appreciates him. She gently bites away one of the wet things that slide out of his eyes, because she doesn't like when that happens. It means her boy is sad, and her boy should be happy.

Slowly, her boy calms. He lifts himself up, and she hops down to his hand, tells him the big bright thing in the sky is back like it comes every morning, and she'd like to see it with him.

He takes her, as if he understands. There's a language barrier, but a small one. More like a big window they can see each other through.

Her boy noses her, murmurs something loving.

She loves her boy, just as much. She hopes he knows that.

She starts to sing one of his favorites, and as her boy sighs and breathes and looks out upon the city, she knows he's going to be okay.


End file.
